


Your Man

by Quixoticity



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst and Feels, Fluff and Smut, Getting Back Together, Karaoke, M/M, No Blaine/Karofsky, Post-Break Up, Rachel is still Fanny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 10:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12792537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quixoticity/pseuds/Quixoticity
Summary: Set in season 6, after the weird rainy break-up (no Blaine-Karofsky because I just can't, with that).Blaine leaves NYADA but doesn't go back to Lima, instead he transfers to Tisch and starts picking up the pieces while still in New York, figuring out who he is without one Kurt Hummel.Kurt runs into him at a karaoke bar six months later and realises he made a big mistake in letting Blaine go - but is it too late to salvage anything from the wreckage of their relationship?A story of re-connection, and falling back in love.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo I was looking through my old laptop and found this. Holy wow, it's ancient (I actually forgot I'd written it) but I did a quick edit so hopefully there's not too many hundreds of typos :S

‘Oh. Holy. Hell.’ Kurt’s glass stops dead half-way to his mouth, which is hanging open in shock. 

‘What? Kurt?’ Rachel follows Kurt’s eyes, which are trained unblinkingly on a familiar figure on the dance floor. ‘Oh. _Oh.’_

‘Yeah. Oh.’ Kurt mutters grimly. He forces himself to put his drink down on the table before he shatters the glass simply from gripping it too hard, and then flicks his gaze back up towards the dance floor. And Blaine. Blaine who is laughing and talking and dancing with a group of friends, shimmying and twirling just like he always used to. Blaine who is dressed in tight green pants, an equally tight black polo shirt, and a bright blue and yellow bow tie. Kurt exhales sharply as he remembers the hundreds of times he has undone Blaine’s bow ties, hundreds of pieces of silk slipping through his fingers as he exposed Blaine’s throat to his kisses, close enough to share the same breath. 

His heart stutters in his chest as he’s suddenly hit by how much he misses Blaine’s throat. Under the soft undulation of the silvery lights, it's as deliciously distracting as ever. His boat shoes leave his ankles bare, and a glimpse of the sliver of skin causes an involuntary shiver to run down Kurt’s spine. Blaine’s hair is loose and curly, styled with a little bit of product, but much more relaxed than it usually is. Kurt’s stomach clenches a little at the thought that; just months ago, he was the only one allowed to see Blaine so decompressed and free. Maybe he’s trying something new after their break up. A fresh start. Kurt swallows heavily. 

Truthfully he hadn’t expected to find Blaine looking so _good._ He is – unreasonably, he knows - a little annoyed by the lack of visible evidence of their break-up. No dark circles shadow Blaine’s eyes, no weary slouch of the shoulders. It’s not that Kurt wants him to be hurting still, but he knows his own heart is still in pieces and it was oddly comforting to feel that Blaine was likely going through the same thing. After their first break-up Blaine looked put-together and handsome as always, but it was clear to Kurt that he had worn the weight of their separation over his skin. Blaine’s anxiety around Kurt had betrayed itself in his posture, in tension around his eyes, in a new tentativeness around his once-ready smile. Kurt wasn’t proud of the fact that he had found it reassuring to know Blaine was so affected by them, by their relationship. They were still connected even if they weren’t together; it was like Blaine had held his breath until Kurt agreed to be his again. 

Deep down that’s what Kurt had expected this time – some sign of the toll it had taken, was still taking. A sign that they are still connected, that Blaine is holding his breath for him.

But he isn’t, and exhalation looks incredible on him. The way he’s dancing, playing off the group of friends he’s with, reminds Kurt of how Blaine used to be with the Warblers. Was it really that long ago that Blaine had looked so happy?

Blaine leans over to say something to a short girl, laughs and wiggles his shoulders, pursing his lips into a pout and drawing her by the hands out onto the floor to dance with him. She laughs and joins in with him, in some sort of playful routine. After a minute a tall blond boy brings Blaine a bottle of beer and he accepts it, looking up at the boy through his eyelashes and smiling. Kurt is suddenly consumed by a fierce desire to shove the blond boy out of Blaine’s personal space. Those smiles used to be his. _They should be still,_ his subconscious offers unhelpfully. Kurt downs the rest of his drink, trying to squash the thought. Unfortunately, Blaine smiling up through his eyelashes is still the single hottest thing that Kurt has ever seen. After over six months without him, Kurt now knows this for sure. He sighs deeply. His bones sort of ache. He feels like he is going to need quite a lot more to drink.

‘Kurt?’ Rachel is looking over at him with raised eyebrows. 'Are you okay? Do you wanna go somewhere else? 

Kurt shakes his head. Their usual karaoke bar is closed for re-furb, so they'd tried somewhere new based on Dani's recommendation (it's a little sticky for Kurt's personal tastes but they'd accepted their fake IDs on the door without too close an inspection), but he's not really familiar with the neighbourhood. It's more than his brain can process to think about looking somewhere else up. ‘It’s fine, Rach. It’ll be fine.’

‘Okay, well I’m going to go over and say hi then!’ She moves to stand.

Kurt catches her wrist, stopping her mid-stride, hissing, ‘Rachel! Seriously!? That is my ex-fiance!’

She raises an eyebrow. ‘Yes, and my friend! And if he sees us here and we haven’t said hello how would that look?’

‘I don’t care! I just don’t think I can, Rachel!' He yanks on her arm until she leans in close to him, so he can whisper hotly, 'Have you seen how good he looks?’

‘Kurt… just last week you were saying you were starting to get over it, that you were going to try speed dating? I mean, you broke up with him, and you haven’t once talked about getting back together with him…’ Rachel’s dark eyes are confused under her thick bangs.

Kurt presses the pads of his fingers into his temples and groans. ‘I know, I _know._ I really thought I was doing okay. But that was before I saw him over there, wrapped up in a bow – a literal _bow,_ Rachel! – fucking _twerking_ in front of me!’

‘Well that boy is built for twerking…’ Rachel admits, patting Kurt on the hand, casting an appreciative glance in Blaine’s direction.

‘Unhelpful, Rachel! That is the opposite of helping!’ Kurt splutters, although a furtive peek back at Blaine who is lost in the beat, all lips and hips and ass and stupid, sexy curls, confirms the truth of her statement. Kurt’s mind swirls with memories of Blaine dancing, relaxed and happy, in their bedrooms, in the choir room, at prom. Kurt has the strangest sensation that he is falling, or that a veil is being lifted so quickly it’s making his head spin.

He realizes in a moment of dizzying clarity that everything has been sort of grey and numb since the break-up. Kurt has been telling himself firmly for months how okay he is. Keep busy, give it time, it will all work out fine. Okay so he’s been lonely and sad, and he knows he’s not over everything, but that’s normal after a break up. Even months later. He’s been keeping on top of school and his job, everything’s been okay. Kurt Hummel has been _fine._

Except. 

Now Blaine is here in front of him, technicolor and dazzling and it hits Kurt that it has always been this way. Blaine has always been like electricity to Kurt, has always made life make sense, taken his breath away. _Shit._

‘Oh my god, Rachel…’ He draws in a breath. ‘I’ve made such a huge mistake haven’t I?’

She squeezes his hand and looks at him with liquid, sympathetic eyes. ‘I can’t answer that for you, but…' She chews on her lip. 'Honey, I’ve seen you these past few months. Even through the gruelling schedule of Fanny, because I am nothing if not an excellent friend. You haven’t been yourself. You know I love you and I really want you to be happy, so I haven’t wanted to say anything because you had to figure it out for yourself. But I think that Blaine... maybe he's your _person._ You know?’

Kurt is quiet for a long moment, and then dips his head down in agreement. ‘Yeah.’

‘Oh, Kurt.’ Rachel leans over and draws him into a hug. ‘I have to go say hi, he’s going to see us any minute. And you, my love, definitely deserve more alcohol!’

Kurt’s lips curl up into a tiny smile. Rachel is a pain in the ass but she knows him, always. ‘I definitely do. Okay. Let me know how it goes?’ 

Rachel disappears towards the dance floor, and Kurt steadfastly refuses to watch her go, so he goes to the bar instead. More alcohol is possibly the best idea Rachel has ever had. He takes refuge inside his head for a minute of blessed distraction, running through some of Rachel’s worst ideas, beginning with her appalling taste in sweaters and working up from there. He gets as far as pink plaid mini-skirts and Jesse St James, before someone comes up next to him at the bar.

‘Hey, Kurt.’ Blaine’s voice is low and sexy as ever and it makes Kurt’s heart skip a beat. Damn. 

He holds himself a little apart from Kurt, but he's close enough that Kurt catches the head-spinning familiarity of his cologne. _Oh god._ Kurt closes his eyes briefly, forcing a too-bright smile onto his face. ‘Blaine! Hi!’

‘Um, Rachel saw us and came over. I wanted to say hi, I hope that’s okay?’ Blaine's expression is friendly, but guarded.

‘Sure, of course it’s okay! It’s good to see you! How are you?’ Kurt winces at how high his voice sounds, but Blaine just smiles his stupid-beautiful crinkly-eyed smile and ducks his head, and Kurt feels a gut-churning combination of heart-break and arousal roil up within him.

‘Good, thanks. I’m at Tisch now, for Music Theatre. I love it, I’m really happy there.’

Kurt swallows, trying to get some control back over his voice. ‘That’s awesome! All change, then?’

Blaine nods. ‘Yeah. I guess I forgot you didn’t know. It’s been a few months since we’ve really spoken, so.’

‘Six months, three weeks and four days.’ It slips out before Kurt can stop it and he wants to bite his own traitorous tongue in embarrassment. He tries to cover the awkward moment with a laugh, but it comes out so pitchy and near-hysterical that all he achieves is the invention of a whole new level of awkward previously unknown to the world. Fantastic. 

Blaine’s eyes widen fractionally and then fix onto the bar. ‘Uh, sure. Yeah. How’ve you been?’

Kurt tries not to grimace at how weird it is, making stilted conversation with a boy whom he’s just figured out, far too late, he’s still in love with. ‘Um, good. Yeah.’ He nods. ‘Everything’s basically the same, you know. Boring boring.’ He smiles in Blaine’s direction but can’t bring himself to make eye contact, instead doing a dorky sort of wave with his hand which instantly makes him want to die of humiliation. How can he be this age and at NYADA and still not have mastered motor functions?

‘Ha. Kurt, you could never be boring.’

Kurt’s finally raises his eyes to meet Blaine’s, and as feared the honey-gold intensity removes his power of speech. Blaine breaks the look after a few seconds, takes a swig of beer and laughs. ‘Come on, Kurt. I know this is awkward but I’d like for us to be friends. If we can. And we both know you were never cut out for a life of mundane domesticity. Fabulous domesticity perhaps.’ He beams his toothy grin, which Kurt can’t help but return. 

‘Of course. Friends would be great. We can definitely overcome awkward.’ Kurt smiles. Their eyes meet again and Kurt’s breath catches.

‘Blaine, I-'

Suddenly the next song begins to play in the bar, and Kurt’s heart sinks when he realises it’s Dancing Queen.

‘Oh. Well yeah, okay. Now it’s awkward.’ Blaine laughs uncomfortably.

_Tuxedos and balloons and bravery and love. Blaine’s hand reaching for him, like always. ‘May I have this dance…?’_

Kurt wonders if they will ever be able to have a conversation that doesn’t spark memories of something lovely or romantic between them. They just have so many memories like that.

He knows his cheeks have flushed pink, and his eyes have dropped to his drink. He can’t believe he let this boy go, the boy who reached for him in front of a crowd of hateful eyes, and held him and gave him a place to be safe, overcoming all his own fears after a horrific Sadie Hawkins experience, just to be there for Kurt. The boy sang for him, to him, without shame or hesitation. The boy who made it rain rose petals as he made every romantic proposal fantasy Kurt had ever had come true. 

He tentatively starts to reach for Blaine’s hand, but pulls it back quickly when the tall blond boy bounces over to them. ‘Blaaaine! Come dance with me! This is my _jam!’_ He wiggles around Blaine suggestively, making Blaine laugh, then sticks a hand out to Kurt. ‘Hi, I’m Tom! I’m not usually such a stereo-typical gold star gay, but, you know – it’s Abba!’

Kurt shakes his hand for a brief second and manages to choke out ‘Hi. Kurt.’

Tom tugs on Blaine’s hand, and Kurt is wildly jealous that he’s allowed to touch Blaine so easily. ‘Dance with me, Blaine, before karaoke starts! Let’s gooo!’ Kurt thinks there's something vaguely Sam-like about his colouring, and his easy-smile. It doesn't stop Kurt from hating him.

Blaine laughs again and allows himself to be pulled away. ‘It’s good to see you, Kurt. Maybe see you later?’

‘Sure.’ Kurt lifts his drink and watches Blaine go, noting the way Blaine's fingers twine through Tom's like a natural reflex. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing back the burn of tears that begins to sting at his eyelids, and wonders if it’s possible to pass out from envy. As the alcohol burns down his throat, he can't help but fixate on the 'maybe' that Blaine had so casually prefixed his 'see you later' with. _'Maybe.'_ Kurt shifts on his bar stool, but his discomfort isn't physical, it's the weight of the 'maybe', heavy and oily in his stomach. 

He watches Blaine and Tom over the rim of his glass, as subtly as he can, jaw locked with tension.

He realises that he's never really considered that he and Blaine might truly be over. Blaine had been nothing but adoring and devoted - sometimes stiflingly so - in his efforts to heal the damage that the sucker-punch of his cheating caused to Kurt's faith in him. He hadn't really believed that Blaine might move on without him.

_'Maybe'_ rings in his ears. He shakes his head to try to dispel it. 

He's about to go and find Rachel and beg to make a strategic retreat when Blaine turns a little and looks right at him, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and and _oh._ Something about it is so achingly reminiscent of the way Blaine used to catch his eye across the Dalton common room.

Kurt's cheeks burn and his stomach flips, just like it always used to, back when he was a naive baby penguin of a sixteen year old, dazzled and scared and consumed with want.

He hadn't known what to do, back then. He hadn't known how to fight for something other than through stoic, unshakeable stubbornness, and the occasional song. 

It occurs to him, as he snags Blaine's gaze again, sure he can see the dusting of a blush over the crest of his cheekbones, that he isn't any less stubborn now.

He finishes his drink and stands, slipping through the crowd to towards the guys setting up the karaoke. His hands shake a little at his sides, but he's determinedly set on his course.

Hummels don't back down from a fight, and he is more than willing to fight for Blaine, the best way he knows how.


	2. Chapter Two

Several songs later, Blaine makes his way to the bar, motioning to Tom that he’s thirsty. Tom nods and shimmies off to join their circle of friends again, and Blaine is grateful to have a moment to try and process everything. Seeing Kurt again, so unexpectedly, was like a punch in the gut. He thinks he handled it pretty well, all things considered. Kurt is still unfairly gorgeous, and still dresses like he’s straight out of GQ, so that sort of sucks, but Blaine figures he’ll probably always have a physical reaction to Kurt. Blaine is a physical person, and their chemistry was always so strong. It was everything else that turned out to be weak, riddled with fault lines that couldn’t be fixed.

Blaine shakes his head and orders a couple of bottles of water. He needs to concentrate on enjoying his night out, with his fun friends and lovely date. He needs to not look over to the table where Kurt is. He needs to not think about the way Kurt had looked at him when the Abba song started to play. More dancing, less thinking: good plan.

‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Tom asks playfully, sliding onto the bar stool beside him. Blaine smiles at him and slides one of the water bottles towards him, noting appreciatively Tom’s ease in his own skin as he twists the top off one of the bottles and downs half of it in big gulps, a droplet of sweat trailing down the tendons of his neck and under his collar. Tom is fun. Kind. _Sexy._ He doesn’t need unfairly gorgeous, unfairly put-together, unfairly _Kurt _Kurt.__

____

Blaine smiles ruefully. ‘Oh I’m pretty sure they’re not even worth a penny.’

Tom leans in, puts his lips to the shell of Blaine's ear, and whispers ‘I’m pretty sure I’ll think anything you’re thinking is worth a whole lot more than a penny.’ His warm breath sends a shiver down Blaine’s back. He stands. ‘Tell you what, I’m gonna hit the restroom and then when I get back I will give you one shiny dollar and you can tell me all your hopes and dreams! Man, having an incremental monetary system for these things makes dating _so_ much easier! We should patent the idea. Tell you what I’ll sign us up to sing something once these girls have finished murdering Rihanna, ok?’ 

Blaine laughs and Tom presses a kiss to his cheek before sweeping off towards the rest rooms. Blaine sighs. It’s so easy with Tom. Tom who is handsome and charming and makes Blaine laugh. Tom who is fun, and who helps _Blaine_ to have fun. 

Tom who is not Kurt. Blaine bites his lip, hoping the little flare of pain will help distract him from the bigger flare of guilt that’s making his palms sweat. It’s to be expected that seeing Kurt again for the first time since their short, bitter goodbye would bring up confusing emotions and painful memories. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that it’s not helpful to be too hard on himself over every little thing. After another deep breath he feels a little more in control, less like he’s coming apart at the seams. Tom will be back soon, and Blaine wants to be able to focus on him properly. He’s chosen to be here with Blaine, after all, unlike Kurt, who has chosen not to be with Blaine. He’ll call Sam tomorrow and talk through some of his more overwhelming feelings. For now, he’ll stick to the plan. More dancing. Less thinking.

Suddenly a familiar voice pipes up over the microphone, making Blaine whip his head round to see the stage.

‘Um, hi!’ Kurt stands centre-stage. ‘I’m going to sing something, um, for someone. Someone… special. I’m usually a Broadway hits sort of guy, but somehow something more top forty seemed appropriate for this. For him.’

Blaine’s hands feel icy and he’s suddenly very aware of his tongue in his mouth. His blood thrums in his ears. Kurt cannot mean Blaine. He cannot. But. _‘Something more top forty’._ Surely that was aimed at him. He forces himself to take a breath. He has no idea who else Kurt is here with tonight, and let’s face it he’s always, always sucked at reading Kurt’s emotions. He really can’t assume Kurt is going to sing to him.

The background music kicks in. Blaine can’t take his eyes off of Kurt, who looks like he’s a statue cast in silver, lit by the spotlight. He looks like he’s made of stardust. Blaine can’t even be annoyed with himself for having the thought – even if they never spoke again he would always think Kurt was made of stardust. 

Then Kurt sings.

_‘Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now,_  
_Our song on the radio but it don't sound the same,_  
_When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down,_  
_'Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name...’_

Kurt lifts his eyes and meets Blaine’s eyes from all the way across the bar. It's too dark to see their colour, but even in the low light they're wide and expressive, and they seem to be asking Blaine something.

Kurt curls his hand around the microphone and closes his eyes so his lashes are velvety shadows on his cheekbones, sucking in a breath before looking straight into Blaine's eyes while he sings.

_‘Too young, too dumb to realize,_  
_That I should've bought you flowers,_  
_And held your hand..._  
_Should've gave you all my hours,_  
_When I had the chance._  
_Take you to every party_  
_'Cause all you wanted to do was dance,_  
_Now my baby's dancing_  
_But he's dancing with another man…’_

Kurt is spectacular, of course. His voice winds up through the air, soaring higher and stronger, reaching out for Blaine. He has always been so affected by Kurt’s beautiful voice. It’s so bittersweet, wrapping in painful tendrils right around Blaine’s heart, pressing on the bruises left there. Blaine is frozen to the spot because while his lungs have just about remembered how to function, his legs most definitely have not. He feels tears prickling behind his eyeballs. This just cannot be fucking happening right now. 

_‘My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways_  
_Caused a good strong man like you to walk out my life_  
_Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, ohh…_  
_And it haunts me every time I close my eyes’_

Kurt never stops looking at Blaine.

_‘Although it hurts_  
_I'll be the first to say that I was wrong_  
_Oh, I know I'm probably much too late_  
_To try and apologize for my mistakes_  
_But I just want you to know’_

Tom slides back in beside Blaine. ‘Wow…’ he breathes. ‘Your friend is fantastic.’

Blaine manages a stiff nod.

Kurt has obviously seen Tom, and for the first time his gaze moves down to the stage and Blaine sees a flicker of something pass over his face – hurt, maybe. His voice is still technically excellent, but it’s also uncharacteristically raw for Kurt.

_‘I hope he buys you flowers_  
_I hope he holds your hand_  
_Gives you all his hours,_  
_When he has the chance…_  
_Takes you to every party_  
_'Cause I remember how much you love to dance_  
_Do all the things I should have done_  
_When I was your man._

_Do all the things I should have done_  
_When I was your man’_

There’s applause, and Kurt takes a small bow, his face twisted into a nervous half-smile.

Blaine takes a deep breath. The need to bolt is overwhelming. His head hurts and so does his heart and he has no idea what’s happening, and no idea how to deal with whatever the hell it is that’s happening. He just really needs to get out of here, he needs to be away from Kurt and all this confusion. He can’t breathe.

He steels himself and turns to Tom. ‘Excuse me.’ He manages a convincing enough smile. Then he runs as fast as he can, blindly through crowds, until he’s out of the door and enveloped in the safe velvet blackness of the night. The air is blissfully cold on his over-heated skin and he sucks in a deep lungful. He leans back against the wall because if he doesn’t his legs will give out.

He starts trembling, and he knows it isn’t because it’s cold. 

It’s fear and confusion and anger. He wasn’t prepared for this. He’s spent so long trying to figure out how to separate his own self from the mess of their relationship. He knows the day that Kurt sang ‘Blackbird’ all those years ago that something in him changed on a bone-deep level. It was like every cell sang out for Kurt with an intense need that scared Blaine. He wasn’t himself anymore, not really, he was ‘Kurt-and-Blaine’, and everything he did, every plan he made, was centred around his passion for this boy. 

It had taken shock and time and work to start to change the rhythm of his heart from _‘Kurt-and-Blaine’_ to _‘Blaine, Blaine, Blaine’_. Just as strong. Just as steady. Just ‘Blaine’.

And now Kurt is back and singing again and Blaine can’t even begin to understand what it means for him this time but it’s absolutely terrifying.

He’s counting while he exhales, running through some of the breathing exercises his therapist has taught him to help manage his anxiety, when Kurt appears, nervous and breathy.

‘Blaine. Hi.’ 

He meets Kurt’s eyes, which are wide, blue, and questioning, and Blaine is suddenly really, furiously angry. How dare Kurt show up like this and just fuck up a perfectly nice night.  


How dare he do this, now, when Blaine is finally putting himself back together.

Half of him wants to yell, the other half to cry. All of him is reeling. He knows for sure that the song was for him, but he can't tell if it was an apology, a plea, or closure. He wishes it didn't matter. But it does, so much, and he hates himself for it.

'What...' he manages to say, his voice gritty from being forced around the lump in his throat, '...what was that?'

Kurt gusts out a tremulous sigh, wrapping his arms around himself as he chews on his lower lip. Blaine blinks at him and wonders how long it's been since he last saw Kurt soft and vulnerable. Months and months - far beyond their break up. Since Blaine had moved to the city his memories of Kurt's frame pulled by tension or anger into hard, unforgiving lines, far exceed his memories of Kurt truly relaxed and open.

'It was...' Kurt says, 'just something important I needed to say. And, uh. Since it's you, I figured, you know. Grand gesture. Medium of song.'

Blaine purses his lips and balls his hands into fists to stop the shaking that's been brought on by rage or shock or a combination of both. 'Funny,' he hisses, just barely tamping down on a little of the bitterness in his voice, 'because it seems rather opportunistic, for something so important.'

Kurt looks abashed, eyes sliding briefly to the ground, and Blaine feels warm satisfaction curl through his belly. He's still mad, still hurting, and yeah, he wants to see Kurt hurting too, a little bit. He's not exactly proud of the impulse but hey. He's already well and truly off the pedestal sixteen year old Kurt had put him on, what's the harm of being fully human, with all his flaws on display, in front of him now.

'It was,' Kurt admits. 'Seeing you here was... It made me come to my senses sooner, maybe, but I'd have gotten there.'

'You always did like to be early,' Blaine murmurs, tipping his head back, enjoying the scratch of rough brick against his scalp. The music spills out from the club, the words muffled but the bass pulses around them like a heartbeat. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Tom, silhouetted against the light of the doorway where he's waiting because he's good and sweet and a gentleman. In front of him, a man made of stardust stands luminescent and ethereal. Kurt's only a few inches away, but the distance between them feels so much greater than it does between Blaine and Tom. Maybe too far for either of them to bridge, now. 

'Blaine, I'm sorry to blurt it out like this, but for-' Kurt pauses, anxiously breathless, 'for the sake of clarity, you should know that first I'm gonna get your forgiveness, and- and then I'm gonna get your heart back...'

Blaine sucks in a breath, suddenly dizzy, like his brain isn't getting enough oxygen. Everything tilts, like the center of his world has shifted again, and once again it's beyond his control, and he feels panicked and overwhelmed and cornered, and suddenly so, so _not ready_ to hear this. 'Kurt...' he cuts him off, pushing a hand through his hair and says, sledge-hammer blunt, 'Um. I'm seeing someone.'

Kurt falls silent, biting his lip and Blaine has the wildest urge to apologise, but he gets a firm grip on himself because no way is he going to apologise for being with someone who actually wants him, when Kurt was the one who let him go. He watches as the muscles in Kurt's throat swallow down his hurt, the flutter of Kurt's long eyelashes against his cheekbones as he blinks away whatever emotion might show in his wide, clear-water eyes. Shameful satisfaction unfurls further in Blaine's stomach. It's petty, this tit-for-tat, hurt-for-hurt, of course it is, but Blaine's flawed, angry, human self can't help it.

Kurt recovers like the professional actor he is, and Blaine can't help but be a tiny bit impressed by the way Kurt squares his shoulders to bear the weight of his disappointment. _Just like he always has,_ Blaine thinks. A nostalgic flicker of pride in this boy who looks like he's made from porcelain but who is actually the strongest man Blaine has ever known flares up in Blaine's chest. He tries to squash it down, but it melts away his frigid anger enough that he says, 'I... we could try to be friends?'

'Yeah. Yes. Definitely.' Kurt offers up a tentative half smile, and then, so quietly Blaine almost misses it, murmured into the soft night air, 'I miss you.'

Blaine swallows hard and can't stop himself from whispering, like a tendon reflex, 'I miss you, too.'

Kurt draws his lower lip between his teeth again for a second before asking uncertainly, 'Would you maybe wanna get coffee sometime?'

'Sure,' Blaine says, even though he isn't really sure it's a good idea. 'We can be adults about this, right?' They have shared friends after all - sooner or later they'll end up having to be in each other's orbit at some occasion or other. They'll have to make nice and eat cake together at someone's birthday party. They'll have to eat and drink and dance and laugh, at some far off, distant wedding. Just... Not their own. Blaine holds himself carefully still, not allowing himself to flinch away from the thought like he might have a couple of months ago.

'Of course.' Kurt walks backwards a little way, widening the chasm between them, arms still wrapped tightly around himself. 'Do you still have my number?'

'Yeah.' Blaine had deleted it, months ago, in anger, but he still has it memorised because he's an idiot.

Kurt nods. 'So... Text me? If you want.' Then he spins on his heel and keeps walking. He doesn't look back. Blaine, however, watches him until he's long out of sight, gazing at the space where Kurt had been for several minutes before he remembers that he has a date, still waiting at the door of the club.


End file.
